


Lost Boy

by bluestockng



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Cassian's POV, F/M, Missing Scene, RebelCaptain Appreciation Week 2017, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, elevator scene revisited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 13:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestockng/pseuds/bluestockng
Summary: A lost scene covering Cassian's thoughts as he climbs to reach Jyn, following through to their final moments on Scarif





	

_I left my home still as a child_  
_I walked a thousand sorry miles_  
_To wait for my father, to gather up his tools_

_He said my boy you've got to run_  
_Don't wait for me, don't wait for mum_  
_We'll come get you, when it's safe for us to move_

_So I waited many years,_  
_Held back the pain behind my tears_  
_For my father, to come find me like he said_

_(...)_

_And at the time I didn't know,_  
_Just how hard the wind could blow_  
_Towards disaster, and the things that I would see_

_I never found my father,_  
_I never found my mother_  
_Even would I know in my lifetime I will be_

_A hero into the masses,_  
_To those born without chances_  
_There's a freedom that everyone deserves_

_I know there's greed and there's corruption_  
_I've seen death and mass destruction_  
_But I'm telling you, and I hope that I'm heard_

_I will not be commanded,_  
_I will not be controlled_  
_And I will not let my future go on,_  
_Without the help of my soul_

_~Greg Holden (Lost Boy/Opie Wake Song)_

How many years could a man sleepwalk through life? For Cassian Andor the answer was “twenty.” Marching through the passage of years, he’d kept his eyes ahead, never glancing back into the past. Clinging to the hope for a better world—a better world he always knew he’d never see—he’d devoted himself to lofty ideals, committing himself to death so that a better world could rise from the ashes. His ashes. 

As he lay crumpled in a heap in the archive tower, he knew that his time was near. It had dogged him for years, but he’d never focused on it, he’d never looked back to find it. Now, his head spinning, his limbs aching, he knew that he didn’t have a choice. He could let it take him here; he could go out quietly, almost peacefully, and leave the details to someone else.

_Jyn._

He could, but he wouldn’t. Not when Jyn was so close and all alone. The things he ran from, his parents, the dead, his own guilt, no longer hung over his head. Finally, he had found meaning out of it all in the small, fierce form of Jyn Erso. Raising his head, Cassian forced himself onto his feet. His body urged him to return to the dark, return to his lifelong slumber, but he denied it. Jyn needed him. Or he needed Jyn? The specifics didn’t matter.

Reaching out, he held onto the archive tower with weak fingers. One slip and he’d return to the abyss, but somehow his grip remained firm. He left the dead behind him, he’d be with them soon enough. Meter by meter, he dragged his body, ignoring the begging and pleading of his own fatigue. In a little while, he could rest, but for now he needed to climb to her. He ignored his own cries of pain, he ignored the searing weight of his own body, and focused on the light ahead instead. 

Through his own sheer force of will, Cassian reached the top of the tower. Kaytoo’s voice echoed in his ears: climb! Shaking away regrets and thoughts of the dead, Cassian timed his jump to the vent above. Jyn must’ve made the climb just minutes before. If she was lucky, she’d reach the radio before the man in white could catch her. If she wasn’t…

He climbed with renewed vigor. One wrong move, one misplaced hand, one misjudged leap, and he wouldn’t wake up from the fall. He ignored the seething metal grates that clanged and clashed, threatening to rent his body in two. Far scarier was the thought of never reaching Jyn. One after the other, he pushed on, picturing her face at the end of the tunnel.

Finally, broken and bloodied, Cassian Andor gasped for Scarif’s freesh air. He didn’t even have the time to thank whatever Force watched over him, because the man in white had beaten him to her. He threatened her, pointed a blaster, quaked at the revelation of her name. She stiffened but her eyes flitted to the control pad. In that second, Cassian pulled the trigger and the man in white collapsed.  
Ragged and half-dead, he must look the hero from lore that he could’ve been in a better life. In Jyn’s eyes, he already was.

Cassian could barely stand, but he registered her small, adoring smile. It was not the smile of a woman who would pass into legend, it was the smile of a woman whose life he could’ve shared and whose heart he would’ve earned if they had only had the time. Heart pounding, head reeling, he watched as she transmitted the plans and stumbled to him. For a brief second she clung to him, and he felt her entire weight fall upon him. In another life, in a better time, it might’ve become familiar. 

Even now, though, Jyn wasn’t content to stay in his arms. She turned and lunged, hell-bent on destroying the man who she held responsible for her own destruction. But what did it matter now? They stood so close to the precipice, and the man in white would be dead soon enough, anyway. Killing him might relieve Jyn, but it would steal precious seconds. When they died, he didn’t want her thinking about the man in white. 

Pulling her close as if on reflex, he spoke calming words that he himself could barely register. Finally, Jyn relented and wrapped her own arms around him. Cassian didn’t even notice that he’d been trembling, but her calming touch steadied him.

In the elevator, he leaned into her, taking some of her strength for his own. Try as he may, he couldn’t look away. Her eyes, he saw, held the promise of a life they’d never know together. Just hours before it had seemed so close, when she’d reached out as if to kiss him but turned away (“I’ll tell the others.”) Now, he suspected, they were following close behind their friends. Halfway gone already, he could hear the beckoning silence calling his name. He’d ignored the dead before, but like the gentle tide, they’d returned. The voices no longer haunted him because they called him home as serenely as the wind: his father, his mother, the silently mourned and the defiantly forgotten. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to picture their faces, to recognize his own features in theirs. He would join them in moments, but for now, he must hang out for Jyn. He had spent his entire adult life, and much of his childhood, marching bravely towards his own inevitable end. In that moment, Cassian Andor accepted the oblivion that awaited him. He belonged to their world already—perhaps he had for years—but he had the strength left to hold on because Jyn anchored him, tethering him to life. He kept moving because she willed it, even as he felt his heartbeat flickering out in his chest.

He’d spent two decades searching for all that he’d lost and never know again. Cassian chased meaning as he criss-crossed the galaxy. He chased purpose to replace all he’d lost in his long, inevitable march towards his own obliteration. In those final lingering moments, he realized that he’d finally found his purpose. Not on an Alliance mission, not while freeing the galaxy. _No._ He realized his purpose in the tenderness of her trust as they sat together on the serene, deceptively picturesque beach.

It was here that he found himself: in her arms, he became her hero, not just a hero to the galaxy. Anyway, heroism and victory seemed illusory, imaginary. It didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter that he was about to die. It didn’t matter that his name would be forgotten, because she remembered. He looked across the beach, out to sea where the horizon disappeared. There were so many things that didn’t matter anymore, so many things unspoken, unsaid, left undone. But still, the only thing that mattered now was the sound of her breath so close and so dear as she reached for him. The only thing that mattered was knowing that she wouldn’t go before him. 

And now he held Jyn in is arms—the first and the last time—comforted, relaxed, and ready to die. He heard the oncoming storm approach, but he didn’t mind. The coming fire burned away his grief and regret, leaving only the reality of her. In their last seconds together he felt the cracks in his armor split open, he felt the old rusted hinges of neglected heart break open. For one fleeting moment, he’d loved her. How tragic, he thought, to die as soon as he felt alive once more. After all his suffering and searching, he finally found himself again and he’d only needed to meet her.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the "Rebelcaptain Appreciation Week", specifically for the April 11th "Song Day" challenge with Comfort as a main theme. 
> 
> The first time I heard the song "Lost Boy", I thought of Cassian and his journey. I hope you enjoyed! If you want, feel free to follow me on tumblr @Bluestockng :)
> 
> PS: I feel terrible but I forgot to mention in my notes for "Extraordinary" how grateful I am for all of the lovely birthday wishes on tumblr! I'm so lucky to be part of this incredible fandom <3


End file.
